Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/The Tragedy of Troylus and Cressida/Act 2 Scene 3

by William Shakespeare

Enter Thersites solus.

How now Thersites? what lost in the Labyrinth of thy
furie? shall the Elephant Aiax carry it thus? he beates
me, and I raile at him: O worthy satisfaction, would it
were otherwise: that I could beate him, whil'st he rail'd
at me: Sfoote, Ile learne to coniure and raise Diuels, but
Ile see some issue of my spitefull execrations. Then ther's
Achilles, a rare Enginer. If Troy be not taken till these two
vndermine it, the wals will stand till they fall of themselues.
O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus, forget
that thou art Ioue the King of gods; and Mercury, loose
all the Serpentine craft of thy Caduceus, if thou take not
that little little lesse then little wit from them that they
haue, which short-arm'd ignorance it selfe knowes, is so
abundant scarse, it will not in circumuention deliuer a
Flye from a Spider, without drawing the massie Irons and
cutting the web: after this, the vengeance on the whole
Camp, or rather the bone-ach, for that me thinkes is the
curse dependant on those that warre for a placket. I haue
said my prayers and diuell, enuie, say Amen: What ho?
my Lord Achilles?

Enter Patroclus.

Patr.
Who's there? Thersites. Good Thersites come
in and raile.

Ther.
If I could haue remembred a guilt counterfeit,
thou would'st not haue slipt out of my contemplation,
but it is no matter, thy selfe vpon thy selfe. The common
curse of mankind?, follie and ignorance be thine in great
reuenew; heauen blesse thee from a Tutor, and Discipline
come not neere thee. Let thy bloud be thy direction till
thy death, then if (he that laies thee out sayes thou art a
faire coarse, Ile be sworne and sworne vpon't she neuer
shrowded any but Lazars, Amen. Wher's Achilles?

Patr.
What art thou deuout? wast thou in a prayer?

Ther.
I, the heauens heare me.

Enter Achilles.

Achil.
Who's there?

Patr.
Thersites, my Lord.

Achil.
Where, where, art thou come? why my cheese,
my digestion, Why hast thou not seru'd thy selfe into my
Table, so many meales? Come, what's Agamemnon?

Ther.
Thy Commander Achilles, then tell me Patroclus,
what's Achilles?

Patr.
Thy Lord Thersites: then tell me I pray thee,
what's thy selfe?

Ther.
Thy knower Patroclus: then tell me Patroclus,
what art thou?

Patr.
Thou maist tell that know'st.

Achil.
O tell, tell.

Ther.
Ile declin the whole question: Agamemnon commands
Achilles, Achilles is my Lord, I am Patroclus knower,
and Patroclus is a foole.

Patro.
You rascall.

Ter.
Peace foole, I haue not done.

Achil.
He is a priuiledg'd man, proceede Thersites.

Ther.
Agamemnon is a foole, Achilles is a foole, Thersites
is a foole, and as aforesaid, Patroclus is a foole.

Achil.
Deriue this? come?

Ther.
Agamemnon is a foole to offer to command Achilles,
Achilles is a foole to be commanded of Agamemon,
Thersites is a foole to serue such a foole: and Patroclus is a
foole positiue.

Patr.
Why am I a foole?

Enter Agamemnon, Vlisses. Nestor, Diomedes,
Aiax, and Chalcas.

Ther.
Make that demand to the Creator it suffises me
thou art. Looke you, who comes here?

Achil.
Patroclus, Ile speake with no body: come in
Exit.with me Thersites.

Ther.
Here is such patcherie, such iugling, and such
knauerie: all the argument is a Cuckold and a Whore, a
good quarrel to draw emulation factions, and bleede to
death vpon: Now the dry Suppeago on the Subiect, and
Warre and Lecherie confound all.

Agam.
Where is Achilles?

Patr.
Within his Tent, but ill dispos'd my Lord.

Agam.
Let it be knowne to him that we are here:
He sent our Messengers, and we lay by
Our appertainments visiting of him:
Let him be told of, so perchance he thinke
We dare not moue the question of our place,
Or know not what we are.

Pat.
I shall so say to him.

Vlis.
We saw him at the opening of his Tent,
He is not sicke.

Aia.
Yes, Lyon sicke, sicke of proud heart; you may
call it Melancholly if will fauour the man, but by my
head, it is pride; but why, why, let him show vs the cause?
A word my Lord.

Nes.
What moues Aiax thus to bay at him?

Vlis.
Achillis hath inueigled his Foole from him.

Nes.
Who, Thersites?

Vlis.
He.

Nes.
Then will Aiax lacke matter, if he haue lost his Argument.

Vlis.
No, you see he is his argument that has his
argument Achilles.

Nes.
All the better, their fraction is more our wish
then their faction; but it was a strong counsell that a
Foole could disunite.

Vlis.
The amitie that wisedome knits, not folly may
easily vntie.
Enter Patroclus
. Here comes Patroclus.

Nes.
No Achilles with him?

Vlis.
The Elephant hath joynts, but none for curtesie:
His legge are legs for necessitie, not for flight.

Patro.
Achilles bids me say he is much sorry:
If any thing more then your sport and pleasure,
Did moue your greatnesse, and this noble State,
To call vpon him; he hopes is no other,
But for your health, and your digestion sake;
An after Dinners breath.

Aga.
Heare you Patroclus:
We are too well acquainted with these answers:
But his euasion winged thus twist with scorne,
Cannot outflye our apprehensions.
Much attribute he hath, and much the reason,
Why we ascribe it to him, yet all his vertues,
Not vertuously of his owne part beheld,
Doe in our eyes, begin to loose their glosse;
Yea, and like faire Fruit in an vnholdsome dish,
Are like to rot vntasted: goe and tell him,
We came to speake with him; and you shall not sinne,
If you doe say, we thinke him ouer proud,
And vnder honest; in selfe-assumption greater
Then in the note of iudgement: & worthier then himselfe
Here tends the sauage strangenesse he puts on,
Disguise the holy strength of their command:
And vnder write in an obseruing kinde
His humorous predominance, yea watch
His pettish lines, his ebs, his flowes, as if
The passage and whole carriage of this action
Rode on his tyde. Goe tell him this, and adde,
That if he ouerhold his price so much,
Weele none of him; but let him, like an Engin
Not portable, lye vnder this report.
Bring action hither, this cannot goe to warre:
A stirring Dwarfe, we doe allowance giue,
Before a sleeping Gyant: tell him so.

Pat.
I shall, and bring his answere presently.

Aga.
In second voyce weele not be satisfied,
Exit Vlisses.We come to speake with him, Vlisses enter you.

Aiax.
What is he more then another?

Aga.
No more then what he thinkes he is.

Aia.
Is he so much, doe you not thinke, he thinkes
himselfe a better man then I am?

Ag.
No question.

Aiax.
Will you subscribe his thought, and say he is?

Ag.
No, Noble Aiax, you are as strong, as valiant, as
wise, no lesse noble, much more gentle, and altogether
more tractable.

Aiax.
Why should a man be proud? How doth pride
grow? I know not what it is.

Aga.
Your minde is the cleerer Aiax, and your vertues
the fairer; he that is proud, eates vp himselfe; Pride is his
owne Glasse, his owne trumpet, his owne Chronicle, and
what euer praises it selfe but in the deed, deuoures the
deede in the praise.

Enter Vlysses.

Aiax.
I do hate proud man, as I hate the ingendring of Toades.

Nest.
Yet he loues himself: is't not strange?

Vlis.
Achilles will not to the field to morrow.

Ag.
What's his excuse?

Vlis.
He doth relye on none,
But carries on the streame of his dispose,
Without obseruance or respect of any,
In will peculiar, and in selfe admission.

Aga.
Why, will he not vpon our Faire request,
Vntent this person, and share the ayre with vs?

Vlis.
Things small as nothing, fore requests sake onely
He makes important; possest he is with greatnesse,
And speakes not to himselfe, but with a pride
That quarrels at selfe-breath. Imagin'd wroth
Holds in his bloud such swolne and hot discourse,
That twixt his mentall and his actiue parts,
Kingdome'd Achilles in commotion rages,
And batters gainst it selfe; what should I say?
He is so plaguy proud, that the death tokens of it,
Cry no recouery.

Ag.
Let Aiax goe to him,
Deare Lord, goe you and greete him in his Tent;
'Tis said he holds you well, and will be led
At your request a little from himselfe.

Vlis.
O Agamemnon, let it not be so.
Weele consecrate the steps that Aiax makes.
When they goe from Achilles; shall the proud Lord,
That bastes his arrogance with his owne seame,
And neuer suffers matter of the world,
Enter his thoughts: saue such as doe reuolue
And ruminate himselfe. Shall he be worshipt,
Of that we hold an Idoll, more then hee?
No, this thrice worthy and right valiant Lord,
Must not so staule his Palme, nobly acquir'd,
Nor by my will assubiugate his merit,
As amply titled as Achilles is: by going to Achilles,
That were to enlard his fat already, pride,
And adde more Coles to Cancer, when he burnes
With entertaining great Hiperion.
This L. goe to him? Iupiter forbid,
And say in thunder, Achilles goe to him.

Nest.
O this is well, he rubs the veine of him.

Dio.
And how his silence drinkes vp this applause.

Aia.
If I goe to him, with my armed fist, Ile pash him ore the face.

Ag.
O no, you shall not goe.

Aia.
And a be proud with me, Ile phese his pride: let
me goe to him.

Vlis.
Not for the worth that hangs vpon our quarrel.

Aia.
A paultry insolent fellow.

Nest.
How he describes himselfe.

Aia.
Can he not be sociable?

Vlis.
The Rauen chides blacknesse.

Aia.
Ile let his humours bloud.

Ag.
He will be the Physitian that should be the patient.

Aia.
And all men were a my minde.

Vlis.
Wit would be out of fashion.

Aia.
A should not beare it so, a should eate Swords
first: shall pride carry it?

Nest.
And 'twould, you'ld carry halfe.

Vlis.
A would haue ten shares.

Aia.
I will knede him, He make him supple, hee's not
yet through warme.

Nest.
Force him with praises, poure in, poure in: his
ambition is dry.

Vlis.
My L. you seede too much on this dislike.

Nest.
Our noble Generall, doe not doe so.

Diom.
You must prepare to fight without Achilles.

Vlis.
Why, 'tis this naming of him doth him harme,
Here is a man, but 'tis before his face,
I will be silent.

Nest.
Wherefore should you so?
He is not emulous, as Achilles is.

Vlis.
'Know the whole world, he is as valiant.

Aia.
A horson dog, that dial palter thus with vs, would
he were a Troian.

Nest.
What a vice were it in Aiax now———

Ulis.
If he were proud.

Dio.
Or couetous of praise.

Vlis.
I, or surley borne.

Dio.
Or strange, or selfe affected.

Vl.
Thank the heauens L. thou art of sweet composure;
Praise him that got thee, she that gaue thee sucke:
Fame be thy Tutor, and thy part of nature
Thrice fam'd beyond, beyond all erudition;
But he that disciplin'd thy armes to fight,
Let Mars deuide Eternity in twaine,
And giue him halfe. and for thy vigour,
Bull-bearing Milo: his addition yeelde
To sinnowie Aiax: I will not praise thy wisdome,
Which like a bourne, a pale, a shore confines
Thy spacious and dilated parts; here's Nestor
Instructed by the Antiquary times:
He must, he is, he cannot but be wise.
But pardon Father Nestor, were your days
As greene as Aiax, and your braine so temper'd,
You should not haue the eminence of him,
But be as Aiax.

Aia.
Shall I call you Father?

Ulis.
I my good Sonne.

Dio.
Be rul'd by him Lord Aiax.

Vlis.
There is no tarrying here, the Hart Achilles
Keepes thicket: please it our Generall,
To call together all his state of warre,
Fresh Kings are come to Troy; to morrow
We must with all our maine of power stand fast:
And here's a Lord, come Knights from East to West,
And cull their flowre, Aiax shall cope the best.

Ag.
Goe we to Counsaile, let Achilles sleepe;
Light Botes may saile swift, though greater bulkes draw
Exeunt.⁠Musicke sounds within.deepe.

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